This one’s for the lady on the Ask PC Facebook group who wanted to know how to get to Park City Mountain from her Airbnb near City Park.
“I don’t want to have to rent a car,” she lamented.
Rent a car?! Put your gold card away, Susan. You can take the bus. Or here’s a radical idea: You can walk.
In short, suck it up, buttercup.
I did a quick Google Maps search and it’s less than 0.3 miles from City Park to the Park City Mountain Village. That’s about a nine-minute walk — OK, 10 or 11 if you’re stepping out in ski boots. Or you could walk to a bus stop and wait a few minutes. A bus will appear. You will ride for free. It will drop you off right by the steps to the resort. VIP, baby.
My goal this winter is to take my car out of the garage only for grocery runs and driving to the gym. I admit, it’s a no-brainer if you live near the resort as I do. If I’m skiing at PCM, I just put on my boots and walk a couple of blocks to First Time lift. It’s actually a great way to warm up your legs before a ski sesh.
I swear I’m not car-shaming. I totally get driving if you have a bunch of kids, are carpooling or are planning a parking lot tailgate. But at $26.50 and up per day, I just don’t understand why more people don’t hop on the bus. Even if you don’t live in Old Town, you can park-and-ride from one of the six lots located from Jeremy Ranch to Kamas. With improved bus-only lanes, it will likely be faster than driving yourself. Imagine the warm, fuzzy feeling of being part of a community that cares about reducing carbon emissions as much as it does getting first tracks on a pow day.
I rode the chairlift the other day with a guy who said he came up to Park City Mountain to escape the horrific air quality in the Salt Lake Valley. Who could blame him? On Dec. 18, The Salt Lake Tribune reported that the valley had the worst air quality in the country as of that morning — and 26th worst in the world.
Experts say the poor air quality in Utah is due to our mountainous terrain, which can cause pollutants to build up near the surface — especially during inversions like the one that took place this week. An inversion happens when a warm air layer moves above a cold air layer and traps air underneath it. The sinking of warmer air acts almost like a lid over the valley bowl. Definitely not the kind of Tupperware any of us needs.
But we can’t really put all the blame on Mother Nature or the Wasatch Front. It’s on us, too. Especially when you consider the amount of carbon emissions our gas-powered vehicles put out. Hint: A car can emit more than double the greenhouse gases of public transportation. And cars tend to carry one or two at a time, while buses can transport 50 or more.
And so it was that I decided to ride the bus to Canyons the other day. I’ve bused it to Deer Valley a bunch of times, but this would be my maiden transit voyage to Can-Can. According to Google Maps, the bus that goes to Canyons runs every seven minutes from the shelter in front of Fresh Market. Piece of cake.
I threw my skis over my shoulder and started walking to the bus stop. Waiting for the light to change at the intersection of Park Avenue and Deer Valley Drive, I had plenty of time to take note of the ski traffic — not to mention the sheer number of cars that contained just a driver.
Oncoming vehicles were either turning right to go to PCM or left to go to Deer Valley. It wasn’t even close to a powder day, yet everyone seemed hellbent to get where they were going. So much so that when the light changed, not one, but two SUVs careened around the corner, nearly taking out the hapless, lone pedestrian in the crosswalk. The one carrying fluorescent orange skis. That would be me.
Thankfully, the rest of the walk to the bus stop unfolded without incident. I waited a few minutes. A bus rolled up. I got on. It was easy. It was fun. I didn’t die. And I came close to meeting the love of my life.
“Hey, didn’t I ride up McConkey’s with you yesterday?” The voice was low, the accent Australian. I looked over and saw the hot snowboarder I’d chatted with on the chairlift the day before. He was visiting from New York City. We exchanged names and chatted some more. The ride flew by. A little too fast, in fact. Sadly, our meet-cute love story ended after we got off the bus near the base of the Cabriolet. He got on line for the Cab and I waited for my friends by the big trail map. I’m sure he’ll live happily ever after.
As for me, I’ll keep my hopes high and my emissions low by walking to the resort, riding the bus or carpooling with friends. If I can do it, buttercup, so can you.